Mad World
by Ghostey
Summary: The effects from the Djinn leaves Dean trapped in his own mind so Sam is left to pick up the pieces and save his brother from himself. But will everything they could've wished for be too much for Sam? Would he choose to abandon hunting living a dream?
1. I Find It Kinda Funny

**Mad World**

_Dean looked at his mother, he knew it wasn't really her but… he really missed her. Sam had been too young to remember Mary, but Dean could, sometimes, like a dream from long ago – one of those feelings that you were unsure if it was a just a wish or distant memory._

_He looked at his brother, "I'm sorry," he whispered apologetically as he tightened his grip and plunged the knife towards his own chest._

**Part One**

"Dean!" Sam shouted. He looked over his shoulder once more anxiously, searching the darkness for the Djinn. "Come on Dean, time to wake up…" he pleaded quietly, his whole body tense and wary of the darkness.

Something moved.

Sam froze, eyes flashing in the dim moonlight from outside. He was torn, he needed to move, someplace that wasn't as out in the open, but then he wanted to stay, he needed to stay to protect Dean. He looked at Dean, his brother seemed to be coming around and his eyes flickered ever so slightly. "Screw it…" Sam hissed through teeth. He pulled out his knife and began working on the ropes holding up Dean.

Then he heard something, and instincts took over. Sam fled, just in time to hide before a dark shape move into his field of vision. The younger Winchester watched as it approached Dean, who was now semi-conscious. "Sonova…" Sam heard Dean's gravelly voice say as his hazel eyes wandered in the direction of the Djinn, not having the strength to really focus. Sam gripped his knife, he couldn't…

The Djinn gripped Dean by the hair, forcing him to look at it. Its eyes glowed an unnatural blue with delight as it stared at Dean impassively. It had done this for ages and was unfazed by Dean's waking. The older Winchester struggled helpless, trying to back away from the creature although his feet barely touched the floor but the ropes still held and there wasn't much room for him to move.

Sam wavered in his hiding spot, he wanted the thing away from Dean so he wouldn't risk accidently stabbing his brother but at the same time he desperately wanted to throw himself at the genie – to kill it for what it was doing to the older sibling.

Blue fire grew from the creature's hand and rested it on Dean's head. Dean squirmed weakly before relaxing, his eyes once again distant, staring into nothing. Sam's heart dropped as Dean's chin fell to his chest and hands that had been clenched into fists had uncurled limp. The Djinn still had a hold on Dean, but the younger brother stepped out, brandishing his knife.

The Djinn's whole body seemed to erupt from it's body as it turned it's head towards Sam and too late did Sam realize it wasn't channeling that energy at him but either to or from Dean. The fire rippled along its arm and hand, licking at Dean's hair and face. Sam lunged at the creature but it sidestepped out of reach of Sam's blade.

The ropes holding Dean broke and the Djinn backed away, pulling Dean's body with it like a predator guarding its meal fiercely. It snarled, the energy surrounding it pulsing. The seconds passed by where the two were at a stalemate, silent and dangerous. The tension was broken by a small whimper, no louder than a small child and startled Sam looked down at Dean.

Still in the Djinn's grasp, the outline of his brother's face was covered in the dancing blue fire that was snaking its way down Dean's neck and collar bone, but unlike the serene empty expression that his brother had before Sam found him Dean was grimacing, eyes clenched in pain.

It was enough to distract Sam for a moment, and the Djinn pounced on Sam, knocking away the younger brother's knife. Sam rolled out quickly moved as fast as he could to be back on his feet with the knife. Sam had the advantage of weight, so as the Djinn once more moved to knock Sam off his feet the younger Winchester returned by plowing into the creature, driving his knife upward through its heart.

Sam's knees buckled as the creature became dead weight and forced the two of them down to the ground. He pulled the knife out and untangled himself from the dead body, unceremoniously shoving it aside to scramble towards his brother. "No… no, no, no…" Sam breathed anxiously, lightly patting the side of his brother's face. "Wake up Dean," he ordered. But Dean wasn't listening. His body trembled and a light blue glow lingered around him. Sam held his brother's shoulders, "Dean fight it man, you were gonna wake up…"

Dean seemed to struggle against Sam, twisting underneath his brother's weight. His eyes wandered the room aimlessly, although never quite settling on Sam. His eyes were flooded with the same bright blue as the genie's had been, but they were unfocused and fading fast.

Sam felt Dean grow still beneath him and his breathing hitched. "No… DEAN!" He barked, trying to get Dean to respond even though his brother was entirely too still. Thankfully, his brother's chest rose and fell, albeit much to slowly for Sam, and his pulse remained strong. He shifted his weight so he had better access to check Dean over. His brother had been missing for days, and Sam had no idea what the Djinn had done to him in that time. Satisfied with the once over and noting no obvious injuries, Sam couldn't spot any problems, except that Dean wasn't awake.

Pausing for a quick second, Sam gathered up his things he had lost during the fight before returning to his brother. He moved so he had Dean's arm over his shoulders and he lifted he and his brother up off the floor. God, his brother needed to watch those cheeseburgers… He struggled carrying his brother when he heard a whimper from his side. He turned his head to see a young woman strung up in the same manner Dean had been, only she looked as though she had been there many more days than his brother had. Dean would… Sam had come to a halt as he leaned his brother against the doorframe, easing some of the strain on his shoulder from carrying Dean. Sam was focused solely on getting Dean out of there and _safe,_ but he knew he had other responsibilities too, such as that girl. Dean would kick his ass if he found out Sam didn't take care of her. Sam sighed and readjusted so he could resume carrying his brother making a mental note to come back to check on her once he got Dean to the car…

Once at the Impala he positioned Dean in passenger seat, he briefly tried in vain to wake Dean. Sam dropped his supplies in the trunk before running inside. The young woman was dirty and pale, but Sam make out a weak pulse. "Hey there," he whispered encouragingly, "I've got you…"

Her eyes fluttered open, but like Dean she couldn't focus on Sam as he cut the ropes holding her. Sam cut the rope hastily, spying where the Djinn still lay and she collapsed into his arms before he laid her out to in order to see the extent of her injuries. She wasn't injured, but she still needed to get to a hospital and fast, by the looks of it.

"Daddy…" she mumbled.

"What was that?" Sam asked in alarm. The girl grasped feebly at Sam's jacket but she didn't say anything else as Sam lifted her up in his arms. Her eyes closed again and Sam was worried that she wouldn't make the trip to the hospital. Laying her stretched out in the rear seat of the Impala, Sam doubled checked on Dean before crawling into the driver seat. He threw the car into gear and careened out of the abandoned lot.

His phone buzzed in his jean pocket and Sam fished it out to look at the caller i.d. _Bobby…_ He put the phone to his ear and before the older hunter could say anything Sam said, "Found him Bobby. Some… warehouse in Illinois."

"He okay?"

Sam glanced anxiously at his brother, who had tilted so his forehead rested against the passenger window with his eyes still closed. "He's uhh… he's not hurt but the Djinn did something and he's not waking up."

"Shit…" Bobby hissed.

"There was a girl there too. She's worse off than Dean so I'm going to drop her off at a hospital and head to your place."

"Okay Sam, I'll dig up what I have on genies…"

Sam had to let loose a strained laugh, anxiously joking, "I hope you have more than just _I Dream of Jeannie_ VHS tapes." Dean would have smiled at that and probably would've made some innuendo about Barbara Eden… the patented Winchester deferral when things got rough.

"Boy I _do_ have a DVD player, and unlike your Daddy and Dean I try to stay with the times. Call me if there are any changes."

The youngest Winchester closed his phone looked in the rearview mirror nervously and at his two passengers as he sped along the highway. He turned the volume up for Pink Floyd's _Wish you Were Here_ just a little louder in order to drown out the all-too noticeable silence from his brother.

--

When he finally reached Singer Salvage Yard, Sam was beyond concerned for Dean, thinking he should have taken Dean to the same hospital he had brought the other victim. Cooler heads prevailed and the older hunter greeted him as soon as the Impala pulled onto the lot.

Dean hadn't moved since Sam had tried to get his brother to drink and he was considerably paler than he had been only a few hours previously.

He and Bobby managed to carry Dean upstairs to the boys' bedroom hook him up to a saline drip Bobby had on hand so the older Winchester would stay hydrated. Despite most of their upbringing, they did actually have their own room always waiting at the older hunter's. Once, after a long hunt John had taken the boys to Singer's house where the hunter had set up a room for the boys and never really changed it back. The simple room had a side table and two twin beds. The closer of the two beds, the one Dean traditionally slept on, had been cleared of books and manuscripts while the other was still piled high with grimoires and the sort.

His brother looked so… _calm._ Sam felt he should be wildly freaking out, don't get him wrong, he was freaking out, but not like he had after Dean had been electrocuted. But this was just like Dean was sleeping, not even tossing and turning due to demons or monsters – he was so peaceful and if Sam didn't know otherwise he'd have thought Dean was having a pleasant dream.

But this dream was brought on by a blood-leeching Djinn that had been hell bent on sucking Dean dry, and for that reason, Sam was "freaking out."

Back downstairs, Bobby fixed Sam a cup of coffee and sat him down at the littered dining room table. Sam did his best to explain the hunt, up until he found and got Dean to the car and when he went back to rescue the other victim. Sam frowned at Bobby and crossed his arms, "When I was with the other girl the genie was holding, when she started waking up she had mentioned something about her father."

"Makes sense," Bobby replied gruffly, "Djinn are known to drain their victims, but to do so they put them in some sort of trance. Makes her think she's getting her wish… in this case her dad."

"Like some sort of… supernatural acid or something?" Sam pondered.

"Which would mean Dean's having a bad trip, overdosing on the thing's magic. Magic that powerful is dangerous stuff Sam, it would create a whole world for Dean. Enough of it might even warp his thoughts," Bobby warned.

"And here I thought LSD was bad for you," Sam mused grimly.

Bobby shot the boy a glare, "Still is ya idgit."

Sam thought of his brother, lying utterly still on the bed, his features pale but calm. "I wonder what he wished for…"

The older hunter bristled, "There may be a way… but I'm not sure if it might…"

Sam stiffened as Bobby looked at him, as if sizing the younger man up. The youngest Winchester waited impatiently and the suspicious look only made Sam even more anxious. What it was like for Bobby Sam would never guess, but the older hunter always seemed to regard Sam with an air of caution – he trusted John and Dean unconditionally, but Sam he was wary about. Sam knew that if there was another hunter that knew about him and his connection to the demon that killed their mother it would've been Bobby – he was probably the oldest friend John had and without a doubt in Sam's mind the first his late father would've turned to once he found out about the plans for Sam.

"Bobby if you're right then the longer he's trapped in his head…" Sam sighed, massaging his temple anxiously.

"I know son, I'm just worrying about that. We need to pull him out of it… and…"

"What Bobby?!" Sam burst, standing up and grabbing the older hunter by the shoulders, "If there's something we can do then spit it out! It's better than sitting around with our thumbs up our asses waiting for Dean to snap out of a wish."

Bobby grimaced but looked seriously at Sam, "Boy, you yellin' at me ain't gonna help your brother. So cool your jets and let me go get something." Sam frowned but let Bobby go, leaving his arms to swing down to his side. The older hunter stepped back from Sam, and returned the favor with a mixed expression of stubborn exhaustion. He shuffled away to what once had been a reading room or an office with Sam followed him eagerly.

Ruffling through various tins stashed in the corner, Bobby opened up maybe a dozen tins and checking all of them before opening one up for Sam to see. Bobby held up the old plant for Sam to examine the dried purplish flowers. "It's the cheap stuff," he shrugged, "Grows around places where Dream Root's been but not quite as potent. It's a way to see what's going on in your brother's head and try to wake him up. Only enough for one of us so I'm figuring you're the best bet to get your brother back. "

"Not sure how effective it'll be, seeing how old it is," Bobby busied himself by looking for the rest of the supplies, "So your ability to effect Dean's reality at all may and probably will be limited. You might be able to control things or just watch as an onlooker…" Bobby set the rest of the materials on the table and frowned pessimistically at Sam. "It might not even work at all."

Sam nodded somberly in reply but was torn… looking into his brother's mind seemed an awfully invasive thing to do. The younger brother knew there was more to his brother than met the eye, dark things that Dean didn't want anyone to see, especially not Sam. This would remove any of amounts of privacy Dean held and Sam was scared of the repercussions if the older Winchester found out what Sam did.

Not only that but if it was true that the Djinn created dreams where wishes came true… what was Dean's dream? It could be anything from women, booze, gambling, the Impala coming to life as a human and having wild sex with her…

Sam had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach and a dark scenario formed in his mind. Dean missed their father… and John had died and gone to hell for Dean. What if…?

Bobby studied Sam. "I'm gonna go get this ready for you…" he said gently.

The younger Winchester returned to Dean's side. "What are you thinking about Dean?" He asked aloud wistfully. What if Dean wished John didn't sacrifice himself for his son? Would Dean be a spirit in his own mind? Or something worse…

--

Later that night Sam had an uneasy sleep, waking up several times in the dead of the night trembling and damp with sweat. He flicked on the light next to his bed and ran a shaky hand through his hair. He was sick, physically sick at the thought of probing the inside of Dean's head and uncovering his secrets but a part of him delighted in the fact he would be able to see where Dean was coming from, maybe understand his brother a little more. His stomach clenched in protest of the thought.

_Look, you're my brother. And I'd die for you. But there are some things I need to keep to myself._

Wasn't that what Sam had said to his brother? Didn't Dean deserve that too?

He glanced over to Dean, who looked just like he always did when he was sleeping completely unaware and blissfully away from their nightmarish existence. Yeah he deserved it, but Sam would deal with the consequences if it meant pulling Dean out of that nightmare. Even if it meant pulling him into this one.

Sam straightened and stretched as he stood up off the bed. Going downstairs he found Bobby still awake in the kitchen hunched over a sauce pan.

Bobby continued to watch the pot and stir in slow circles but said to Sam, "Didn't think you were awake…"

"God Bobby," Sam said, crinkling his nose as he approached the stove-top, "That stuff stinks to high heaven." Indeed it did, akin to rotting eggs and burning plastic and Sam wondered how flowers had managed to make an odor that bad. The younger Winchester began to wonder if he was feeling sick due to his nerves or because of the mixture. It was a wonder Dean didn't wake up solely to grab a can of Febreze and get to work on the whole house.

"Yep," Bobby shrugged, "Nasty stuff. Should've made it outside though, the house'll smell like this for a week. This stuff is about ten times stronger than NyQuil when taken as is… give it a couple more ingredients and it'll give you a ticket for the dreamland express…" The older hunter moved a bit and motioned for Sam to take the stirring spoon from him.

Sam took up the reins of keeping the contents stirred while Bobby looked for a mug. Finding one, he once more took over from Sam and emptied the pot into the glass and offered it to Sam. The youngest Winchester looked at it dubiously; it was a translucent purplish brown color that fizzed slightly in the mug.

"Sam… I've been doing some thinking…" Bobby started slowly. Sam's eyes looked up from the glass at the older man, who immediately looked down at the floor to avoid eye contact. "I was thinking that it may be difficult to bring Dean back if he's convinced his wish is reality. Old wives tale is that if a person's about to die in a dream…"

Bobby trailed off and Sam scowled, "Are you saying I may need to kill him Bobby?"

He looked up apologetically, "I'm saying if you can't save him you may have to."

Sam mused over that, watching the concoction swirl in the mug – that's just what Dean was instructed to do by their father. But Dean was ordered to kill Sam only if the younger man went dark-side and couldn't save him… Sam would need to kill Dean if he was _happy._

--


	2. I Find It Kinda Sad

**Mad World**

_Dean fell over, blood running along the hilt of the blade and dripping onto his hands. His whole body trembled and he gasped. "I'm supposed to…" he coughed, his eyes widening when the familiar copper taste of blood coating the inside of his mouth._

_Instantly Sam knelt so the younger man could look at the wound. He squeezed Dean's shoulder and with his free hand gingerly he pressed the area around the stab. "Ninety percent sure… Jesus Dean…"_

_The older Winchester looked up, "Where's Mom? And Jess…?" But he and Sam were alone with no sign the others had ever been there. Was all that just a nightmare? He had been wrong, he hadn't woken up so he was stuck here… wherever here was. And he stabbed himself? What was wrong with him?_

_" your phone? Where's you're phone Dean?" Sam asked, breaking through the painful hazy that had begun to cloud Dean's consciousness. "I'm going to get you help, I'm not gonna let you…"_

**Part Two**

Sam threw his head back and downed the mug quickly, trying to resist the urge to gag as it covered the inside of his mouth and throat. When he finished he looked at Bobby expectantly, "What's supposed to happen?"

The older hunter looked to the side, "Your daddy told me it felt like falling backwards with your eyes closed, when you have no idea when you'll hit the ground but you know you will. I'm assuming he means it may get a bit… weird."

"Weird is something we deal with all the time Bobby," Sam said with a sarcastic smile on his face. It turned into a contemplative frown as he asked, "When did my Dad use it?"

Bobby opened his mouth to answer, and then closed it slowly, lost in thought. A moment passed and he wasn't looking at Sam anymore – he wasn't looking at anything at all.

Sam stepped closer to his friend a bit concerned. "Bobby?" He asked tentatively. The young hunter waved his hand in front of Bobby's face, slightly disquieted when no response was given. It was as though Bobby froze in time, locked in perpetual apprehension over Sam and Dean.

The youngest Winchester stepped back to take in the whole room, which seemed a bit grey and hazy. "Yeah… a bit weird is right…" Sam acknowledged as he turned around. Fear for his brother gripped the hunter and he ran upstairs to check on Dean. Sam felt an icy chill when he discovered Dean wasn't in the bed anymore – there was no trace of him even being there. Sam paced the room, nothing that belonged to the Winchester family was there anymore… all of it had simply vanished. In the place of twin beds there was an old desk and matching chair. Loose-leaf papers littered the room, and Sam bent over to pick a few of them up. He leafed through them, and while there was writing on them was blurred or gibberish.

The papers fell out of his hands and scattered around the room. Sam gulped and went back downstairs, fully expecting to see Bobby gone too but the hunter was still standing there still as a statue. He bit his thumbnail anxiously, obviously Dean wasn't here and Sam was pretty certain time freezing classified as weird. So where would Dean be if not at Bobby's? Sam moved aside curtains to look outside into the salvage yard… nope… the Impala wasn't there either. If Bobby snapped out of it he should know where Sam went, so the young hunter grabbed a piece of paper and a pen. In hasty chicken scratch, he wrote out –_ I'll call you when I find Dean. Sam Winchester._

He stuffed the paper in Bobby's hand and it stayed suspended even though it wasn't properly held by the older man.

Sam ventured outside, blinking at the bright early morning light which greeted him. With the Impala gone, Sam would have to get creative to find Dean. A truck in the yard looked suspiciously familiar to the young man and after a moment it struck him that it was his father's… or… had been his father's. Sam looked back over his shoulder at the farmhouse and said, "I don't think you're gonna miss it much Bobby…"

Hotwiring the truck, Sam threw it into gear and offered up a silent prayer of thanks that it worked. He tapped the top of the steering wheel, debating where to go. If Sam was right in assuming that Dean wished John hadn't made his deal there was no telling where John was and the youngest Winchester seriously doubted that even in a dream world, would John Winchester pick up his phone. It would be nice to see his father though… tell him… Sam shook his head, it wouldn't be his father, it'd be Dean's idea of their father. John would probably be six foot twenty with a shotgun in one hand and a Captain America shield in another.

Sighing, Sam looked at his phone, weighing the pros and cons of calling his father. He screwed his face up into a scowl and dialed his father's number, fully expecting the line to be dead or reach voice mail.

He was right on one count. He reached the voicemail but it wasn't John Winchester.

A distinctly feminine voice came over the line, "Hey, you've reached Mary Winchester. I must have the phone off or I'm busy at the moment. Leave your name, number, and I'll get back to you as soon as I can. If this is regarding November 2nd, call my son Sam at 650-795-0880."

Sam stared dumbly at the phone.

_Hey, you've reached Mary Winchester…_

His mother was alive.

Dean wished his mother had survived that November night back in 1983.

Oh God.

The youngest Winchester had to take a few deep breathes before shutting his phone. He pulled off the empty highway and slumped so his forehead rested against the cool steering wheel. He had to go home, back to Lawrence. With steely resolve, Sam once more put the truck into gear and gripped the wheel. It made sense that Dean would wish for that. He always put family first, before anything else – even himself.

He frowned and looked out the front window… the world had gone freaking _Langoliers_ on him but now at least he had someplace to go. The landscape around him was grey and muted as though it was an afterthought, and Sam reasoned that had mostly to do with Dean. This dream world was constructed based on Dean's perception, and although the hunter had been across the country countless time his brain could only handle so much. Places like Bobby's and Harvelle's Roadhouse were put on the imaginative backburner because they had to do with hunting and since Dean's wish was to have their mother alive they weren't important because they didn't hunt things.

Sam found that his assumption was right, that as he got closer and closer to Lawrence the landscape around him changed and grew more and more vivid as though it was coming to life. Soon there were other cars on the streets and pedestrians milling around. All signs of life were greatly exaggerated as he drove into town and Sam felt the whole situation was a little too Stepford for his liking.

He gunned the accelerator and his eyes widened as the truck barreled toward a vehicle turning at an intersection. Sam quickly tried to turn his own vehicle away but prepared for a crash. When no crash occurred Sam had to blink as the car drove away harmlessly.

The hunter stumbled out of his truck and looked around him quickly. No one seemed to notice him… no one could see him standing in the middle of the busy intersection and cars whizzed past him in a blur. So there, while he was should have been risking life and limb in the midst so many speeding cars Sam stood without notice.

"Hey!" He yelled at one of the people along the sidewalks. He ran over to the teen, avoiding cars along the way. Sam waved his hand in front of the young man but drew no reaction. He was a freaking ghost to these people. Curiously he grabbed a stack of newspapers near by and threw it into the air, catching some of the loose paper in his hands and others passed through him like air.

_Great,_ Sam thought, _now it's a gamble if I can even touch things._ Sam had been wondering when he'd find out how much he could affect this world and boy did he get the answer for that question. He ran his hands through his hair anxiously, thinking of all the problems that could and probably would happen if and when he found Dean. If nobody could see or hear him what hope would there be that Dean would be able to?

Abandoning the truck in the street, Sam started to follow the sidewalk, passing by university students and others without note. It was only after about ten minutes of walking did Sam notice something peculiar about the faces in the crowd – he knew all of them. It was like Dean filled the town with people they'd known or helped throughout their life.

Over at a Starbucks Jo Harvelle was sipping a coffee with Cassie. The little girl and her mother Sam and Dean had saved last year before the demon kidnapped their father were window shopping. Andy and Meg were on the corner promoting some homelessness shelter with… _Is that Doogie Howser?_ Not only that but more people from television and movies were walking around casually, like Jessica Alba passing him on a messenger bike, Harold and Kumar _were_ at White Castle, Dan Aykroyd and Bill Murray were arguing about crossing the beams, and Bruce Campbell in… no lie… a S-Mart apron looking at chainsaws.

"This is so bizarre…" Sam breathed, massaging his temple and diverting his eyes as those two idiots from Hellhounds brushed past him. A headache began to pound and Sam was starting to feel sick with the amount of life and color that surrounded him. He stopped for a moment, staring at a flower shop (manned by "that Constance bitch") at a figure with his back turned toward him. Sam froze as the figure turned around, clutching a fresh bouquet of flowers.

It was him.

Sam stared at himself from across the street. It was really him. But at the same time it wasn't, because he was dressed in brand name clothes and had slightly shorter hair. And he looked… _happy._ The other Sam had a boyish smile on his face and bounce in his step and Sam half expected his counterpart to start whistling that annoying zippity-freaking-do-dah song.It was a foreign look for him, and Sam couldn't remember the last time he looked at a mirror and hadn't been scared of the man that looked back at him. Too many bouts of mourning Jessica and his father, too many days fighting to rescue Dean from the shadow of death, and too many nights spent conflicted over his destiny.

He glared at himself, even though it was just a figment of his imagination Sam found it hard not to be angry at Dean for imagining him this way. Sam had thought he'd been through that with his brother, they had both been through so much and Sam wanted his brother to believe him that after everything they'd gone through Sam had given up being normal… given up trying to be normal. They were freaks, and Sam just wanted his brother back so he wouldn't have to be a freak alone…

He needed to find Dean and get him to wake up. Sam pursed his lips, shooting daggers at his doppelganger, but at least he found his ticket to find Dean.

The hunter followed the other Sam through the town, and stalked him up to the old Winchester home. The other man opened the trunk of his rental to pull out a large suitcase and Sam imagined that his other self had flown in just that afternoon. He followed himself up the front steps to the porch and when the other man closed the front door, Sam pushed the front door open gingerly and stepped inside, barely making a whisper. To the other Sam he must be nothing more than the wind. He had to take a moment as he went inside, having a "Sam Winchester… this could have been your life" moment. It was all… everything he ever could have wanted, and everything he wished had happened. Pictures lined the walls and every flat surface inside the house – pictures of him and Dean, Sam's graduation… even a picture of John and Mary dancing at some black tie affair.

How much different would it be if he had been the one to fight the Djinn alone? What would he have wished for? Dean wanted Mary Winchester to live and what Sam wanted most was not to be chosen by some demon.

And then there was… Sam almost had to laugh, it was such an absurd thought but it wasn't something a person saw everyday. The back of his own head… what a funny thing…

Sam paused, stretching his back as he continued to scope the living room.

He stopped. Over the mantle there was a neatly folded American flag in a frame and a somber picture of his father in full uniform. Quiet dread filled Sam as he stared at the flag, and although his father didn't talk much about his time in the marines, but even still he had picked up from school and college many of the practices of the United States military… and unless he was sorely mistaken, which he hoped he was, John Winchester was dead.

The youngest Winchester stepped closer to the small shrine. His father didn't have the same creases along his face… Without his mother's death, it meant that the Winchester men never went hunter… meaning his father didn't need to worry about the stress and dangers of raising his young sons on the road. But why would Dean's wish not include his father? His brother practically worshiped the ground John walked on and revered the man's journal more than the Bible.

He frowned, even in a wish his brother couldn't make himself happy.

But here… looking at all the pictures… Sam wondered if Dean unconsciously did that so he wouldn't have to see his father any other way than he did growing up. A man on a mission from God… that was John Winchester to Dean… not some blue-collar family man.

Even still, he couldn't help but mourn the loss of his father here in their Lawrence home constructed in Dean's mind. Sam touched a picture of Dean and John – Dean in the baseball uniform for the University of Kansas Jayhawks and John in proud dad paraphernalia. _Daddy's little soldier…_

The other Sam seemed to hover in the living room, as though he could sense Sam's presence. Sam eyed himself critically as the other man stared in his direction although he couldn't see the other man. His doppelganger shivered and shook his head, choosing to ignore that feeling and he turned into the kitchen. Sam gave a lasting look at his father's memorial before following himself, stopping just to stand in the kitchen doorway unnoticed.

"Sammy!" His mother smiled as the two embraced. He kissed her cheek and handed her the bouquet of flowers. "I didn't expect you here so early, I would've cleaned up a bit," she said, fussing with her hair, laying the flowers on the kitchen table.

The other Sam took it in stride, "Plane got in early, I would've called you but I didn't have any reception."

The unnoticed ghost in the door frame watched with muted jealousy… he kept trying to tell himself_, this isn't you, this isn't Mom, and this isn't your life…_ She was so much like she had been when he and Dean worked that job in their old house – so beautiful and young…

She was everything the Winchesters missed in real life, innocent… pure… radiant… the exact opposite of everything the Winchesters had come to know in their lives. Mary Winchester didn't look much older than she did in the few remaining pictures the brothers had, maybe a few wrinkles from smiling, but overall she was exactly what Dean would want from his mother in this dream.

She made surprised look with her face and jumped out of her seat, jumping to the stove top. "You'll have to forgive me Sammy, I was just making dinner for us when you got here," she said cheerily.

"No problem," the other Sam said, leaning back in his own chair, "You need any help?"

"Nope," she replied, waving him off, "Just go ahead and bring your bags up to your room. Take a shower and food will be ready by then."

Sam watched his twin look over his mother's shoulder at what she was cooking before retreating back to his rental. He stayed and took a seat at the table and watched as his mother busied herself cooking, taking in all the tiny movements and tried to capture it all for posterity. Sure, it wasn't really his mother, but she was the closest thing Sam had to her and probably the closest thing he'd ever get.

Sam sighed; he wished he knew his mother as long as his father and brother, to be able to have that driving force in his life. He frowned, he sort of did… while it wasn't the same, and Jess was just as big a part of his life as Mary had been for his father.

He drew in a quick breath… _Jess_. Was she alive?

Sam stood up, and quickly ran to follow his doppelganger… he had to know if Jess was alive…

Behind him, Mary Winchester caught a shadow move in the corner of her eye and she turned to look to where Sam had been moments earlier. "Sam?" She asked into the empty kitchen, although no one was there.

Sam's feet instinctively guided him up the stairs to his nursery, as though his body knew where to go even though he'd only been to the house once since his father took he and his brother away after Mary's death. Rushing into the room he saw himself unpacking onto the bed and Sam walked around the man looking for tell tale signs of what his life could be and most importantly, what about Jessica?

It looked as though the man had packed for a long stay, plenty of clothes and a fresh package of socks told that story. Little nit picky things Sam looked for, such as an old Marines jacket, a Stanford hat, and Sam's breathe hitched as he saw himself neatly fold a shirt he _knew_ Jess had bought for him. Sam felt the familiar heartbreak in his chest as the other man so casually buried it under more shirts and things – he had that shirt for the longest time after Jess's death, and when it met the usual end for Winchester wear he mourned its passing than he should've let it. He hadn't told Dean about that, he didn't think he needed to…

The young hunter was mostly over the death of his girlfriend, he had since moved on with other flames (not nearly as many as Dean) but he could understand how his father felt after their mom dying. He loved Jess deeply, and he truly believed she was the one he would spend the rest of his life with, and no one would ever come close to that again, not really. Hunter's weren't the ideal partner, and his lifestyle prevented anyone from getting close.

The other man had gathered up a few stray things and left the room without even noticing Sam. The hunter lingered there, hovering over the bed and pulled out the shirt. He looked at it mournfully… no matter how much he wished, Jess wasn't coming back.

A call from downstairs brought him back to the present, a reminder of his task at hand. Mary yelled up the stairs to her youngest asking, "You want to see Dean tonight or tomorrow baby?!"

Muffled by the sound of the shower, the other Sam replied loudly, "I'm pretty beat, and besides, I think it's after hours!"

"Okay," Mary sighed.

Sam looked at the closed door of the bathroom puzzled and confused by his twin's use of the words "after hours." Was Dean in jail? Or a hospital of some kind? He quickly descended downstairs to investigate where his brother could be, and he followed his mother into the kitchen where she began to set plates for the two of them.

She jumped when she looked up and saw Sam, who was equally surprised that she could see him. "Sam I thought you were in the shower…" she said slowly, her eyes travelling up and down his person.

"Uhh…" Sam faltered, "I was looking for the number for Dean… figured I'd give them a call to see if they were…" He stumbled over the sentence, and couldn't find it to lie to his mother.

"You wanted to call the hospital to see if visiting hours were still open?" She suggested. Mary pointed over to the refrigerator, "Number's on the fridge. Finish your shower before dinner gets cold though hun. And you shouldn't leave the water running like that."

Sam gulped and nodded weakly before pulling the small business card off the door of the fridge. He pocketed it and smiled awkwardly at Mary. "It's just… it's so good to see you Mom," he said finally. Sam pulled her into a hug, holding her tightly as he tried to imagine what growing up would have been like if he could have hugged her like this more.

She patted his back patronizingly, "It's good to see you too Sammy."

--

He left unnoticed from the Winchester family home and stole one of the neighbor's cars to drive to the hospital. More and more people were beginning to look up at him rather than just passing through but the large majority still didn't see him. Sam assumed that his persona was establishing itself into Dean's psyche and that sort of mumbo jumbo.

Sam didn't know where to start looking for his brother when he got there and attempts to talk to the nurses failed spectacularly. In one instance a patient in a wheelchair could see him but the doctor with him couldn't and Sam could only imagine that if any of this were real the patient would be carted off to the…

_Psych ward…_

The young hunter felt his stomach dropped as the thought came to him. He worked his way over to the nurse's station and typed quickly into the computer his brother's name. _No need for aliases,_ Sam thought ruefully. Finding Dean's room number, Sam walked briskly up two sets of stairs before he found the doors to the psychology department.

It didn't house many patients, so Sam didn't have to wait long to find Dean's room number. He pushed the door open, and saw a curled figure facing the back wall.

"Dean?" Sam asked, watching his brother shiver slightly underneath the covers. Sam knew that the nurses and the doctors couldn't hear or see him, but he silently prayed Dean could. Rustling from the covers gave him hope as Dean turned his just enough for Sam to be within eyesight. "Can you hear me Dean?" Sam asked again, stepping closer to Dean's bed cautiously.

"Sam?" Dean croaked.

The younger brother returned with a wide genuine smile, "Yeah Dean, it's Sam. God… I'm so glad you can see me. Listen, we need to get you…"

"Where's Jessica?" his brother mumbled, closing his eyes and turning back towards the wall.

"Jess?" Sam asked, confused. "No, Jess isn't with me. It's just me and Bobby's waiting for you too…"

An uncomfortable silence hung between the two of them before Sam shuffled closer to his brother, "What happened to you Dean?" He asked gently. Sam was so confused, why was Dean in the hospital at all? Why in the world did he wish for this? Sam sat at the foot of Dean's bed, but the older man just curled in on himself. "Dean?"

"I don't know Sam, I'm sorry…"

"Sorry for what?"

Dean didn't say anything, but pulled himself against the wall so he could look at Sam, "I thought you were going to wear that girly flowery shirt."

Sam raised an eyebrow and looked down at his drab hoodie and plaid button down, "Dude I always wear this."

"I'm surprised Jess let you out of the house," Dean said, giving the younger man a small smile.

The youngest Winchester returned with a smile… maybe this was going to be okay… maybe they were going to be okay.

"I'm sorry Sam," Dean said again sadly.

"For what?" Sam repeated.

"For trying to kill myself, for not believing you," Dean let loose a strained laugh, "But hey, at least there's no such thing as ghosts right?"

--

_(A/N: Forgotten disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural in any way unfortunately. Oh and try to count how many references I've thrown into this chapter haha. Leave a review!)_


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